The Domesticated Adventures of Klaroline
by CMayleenJ
Summary: Drabbles and a sequence of one-shots featuring our lovely (obviously) married vampires, The Original Hybrid Klaus and his wifey, baby vampire Caroline. Their adventures, arguements, eye sex, and of course the real Hot Hybrid Sex. Through the perspective of their private life and through the eyes of those around them, ladies and gents, I present, Klaroline.
1. Chapter 1

This idea came to me while lying on the couch, enjoying a relaxing off from School, watching _Say Yes to The Dress: Atlanta, _with the help of various _Tumblr_ posts about Hubby & Wifey/ Mr. and Mrs. Mikaelson posts, 'cause come on, Caroline and Klaus already have the arguing down to a T, same with the intense eye sex most newlyweds have, now all we need is smut. It might be just a one-shot and a sequence of drabbles, so it's not just like –out of the blue –but more like, a-b-c-d-e… you know what I mean? For example, in this, they haven't moved in but they often sleep over, so perhaps hypothetically Klaus suggests that she officially move it, so that'll be the next chapter, or while they are watching _Say Yes to The Dress_, Klaus acknowledges Caroline would like _this_ kind of dress and later in maybe the seventh chapter you see her in _that_ dress as mentioned in the first chapter, you catch my drift? Sorry, I'm not really good at explaining things. I'm only used to writing stories, so I assume people catch the jiff of it when reading.

Hope you enjoy! Love,

Fellow Klaroline shipper, Cassidy

* * *

**The Domesticated Adventures of Klaroline **

**Chapter 1: **

_**TLC**_

The aroma of steam and curry hit her like the flash of light coming from the kitchen. She could hear the tread of heavy footsteps slap across the tile nearby. The commotion was enough to lift her from her sleep and off the soft pillow she'd been resting on. She forced herself up and turned her head towards the kitchen where a familiar figure loomed over the counter, unloading white Tai boxes onto the marble. She couldn't resist a smile and his head shot from the food towards her.

"Enjoy your nap, love?" He teased before walking towards the couch, pecking a kiss over her lips before ruffling her disturbed hair. She slapped his hand away before fixing her messy curls again and joined him instantly in the kitchen, unveiling her disheveled state under the bright fixtures. He laughed at her tired state. "You look like you got some rest," he began, sliding a box of noodles in her direction. She picked it up and unfolded the top flaps, inhaling the delectable scent of heavily seasoned vegetables and sour-sweet coated noodles. She snatched a pair of disposable chopsticks from the plastic bag and slid onto a stool, eager to pick at the noodles.

Klaus joined her and opened his own box, eyeing the contents suspiciously. Caroline set her own food down, stabbing the chopsticks into the slimy noodles, before throwing Klaus a look, pursing her lips but unable to resist the grin tugging at the corners. "What," she began, "never had take-out before?"

"Not really," Klaus answered, continuing to shift through the contents with his own pair of chop sticks.

"Have you ever had Chinese before," she asked. He titled his head, obviously amused, she could tell from his smirk. Caroline rolled her baby blue eyes. He snickered.

"Yes, I have," he replied. There was a sparkle in his eyes that attracted Caroline's eyes and they both were unable to pull away from each other's gaze. "In _China, _the authentic kind of cuisine instead of _this, _this _Leann Chin's _shit."

"Klaus," she berated, punching him lightly on the arm. He stifled a laugh, covering his mouth with the back of his fist, unable to pull away from her face. She was too damn cute. Even when her hair not in its usual, perfect fashion, he was flattered that she would show her natural side to him. She had pulled back her wild locks into a casual pony tail, with some short strands slipping out and falling to the side of her cheeks but she didn't mind, too occupied with scolding Klaus with his language.

She, too, was flattered by the fact she considered herself one of the few women –or _woman –_who he could dress in simple jeans and ratty old t-shirt in, and she wasn't too afraid to admit it gave him a different touch than his usual dark attire. She couldn't put a word on it but this personal side of him gave him more of an edge than his Henley's did. Like the boy-next-do_-NO_, she corrected. He couldn't even be compared to something so typical. _Tyler _was boy-next-door, a high school sweetheart, and she was _so past that. _She was grown woman now, with a body to prove that. So if Klaus wasn't the boy-next-door, what would he be? She glanced at his faded brown tee, grinning at the two top unbuttoned buttons, prying open a peak at his masculine chest. She grinned, as did he, noticing her descending stare.

He'd be the hard working (if what he does is considered _working,_) singleton a few houses down who caught her eye, driving his masculine SUV down the street, or tending to his backyard, shirtless, sweaty…no, that wouldn't work, she corrected again, trying in vain to erase the image in her mind while she readjusted her pose. Looking at him again, she concluded he'd be the high rising white collar businessman but on weekends, he'd be the playboy romping around with his brothers and friends around bars and games, unable to resist his inner masculine urges to shout at touchdown or homerun or enjoy a good glass of whiskey. He wasn't afraid of getting dirty or breaking into a sweat. The thought brought an uncomfortable dampness between her legs and she promptly crossed them.

"Caroline," he asked. The sultry tone in his voice brought shivers down her spine and a warmth in her stomach. "What is going on in that pretty little head of yours?" He grinned at he recognized the dazed look in her eyes. She pulled her stare away from his inquisitive blue eyes and directly into her stir fry.

"That if you ate Chinese, then this isn't much different, so eat," she demanded. He smirked at her sass, amused as she stabbed her chop sticks into the Asian concoction.

"Actually," he began but Caroline cut him off harshly.

"Drop it," she warned, trying to be serious but he found a little humor in her pouty lips. He raised his hands in surrender and left it alone and hesitantly placed a small number of noodles into his mouth, wrinkling his nose as he took in the generic quality. Caroline shot him another look.

"Is it really all that bad?" She had to question, throwing her head back in mind frustration. Her pony tail flittered. It teased Klaus who all but wanted to grab it and tug it back before laying kisses all over her velvety neck. His fantasy was abruptly killed by her fingers snapping in front of his face, startling him.

"You were daydreaming, Klaus," she alerted him.

"You were too," he pointed out.

They leveled their stare, telepathically agreeing they were even. Towards the end of their stare, mirroring grins sneaked onto their faces, almost mimicking the other before returning to their boxes and eating silently for a few minutes.

"So," he began, licking his lips, removing the sour-sweet sauce off with his tongue. "How was your day so far, Love?"

She nodded as she finished swallowing another handful of noodles. "I spent the whole day watching _House Hunters _and some renovation showon _TLC, _and that bored me so much I passed out on the couch –as you saw. Oh," she also added, lifting her chopsticks, "it did give me an idea," she started, jumping off the stool and to the living room and flicked the lights on full glare as she passed the archway. "I love this historic setting, I really do," she said, flaring her arms up to motion to all of it, but raised her palms up towards Klaus, almost to defend her next opinion, and he knew exactly that. "But," she added, "we can do some much with this space. I can see a lot more bright colors that this," she pointed to the plain leather brown couch. "It's comfy, I admit, seeing as I slept on it all day," she excused, "but…maybe something black, grey, or yellow, because it would work well with the stone," she motioned to the fire place. "We could give this place a more modern, suburban feel, you know? What do you think?"

How could he say no? He thought to himself, smiling. He could see the light in her eyes, the way her smile brightened everything around her as she got more passionate about the subject. "There's only one problem," he started, setting down his curry. Caroline's smile dropped and he silently regretted saying anything at all. She walked to him slowly to confront the subject, determination set in her eyes.

"And what's that," she demanded, crossing her arms. He grinned before pulling her closer and onto his lap. She gasped at the close proximity before settling onto his knee, securing herself by locking her arm around his neck.

"Why make so many changes if you aren't going to stay?" He inquired. Caroline's head reared back in surprise, widening her eyes. The blackness of her long lashes emphasized on the widening black pupils of her stunning blue eyes, captivating him.

"What do you mean?" She demanded. "I practically stay here every night."

"Exactly," he explained, "but it's not _official. _I want you to stay, _for good. _No more duffel bag. No more packing. Everything should be _here _already." He squeezed her thigh and used his other hand holding her up to pull her towards him until their noses skimmed. "Is that so much to ask for?"

"Klaus…"she began. He felt his heart sink but his grip tightened on her nonetheless, refusing to let go of her. "Don't you know? _I have _made it official. I sleep in _our _bed, not just yours anymore, _we made it ours. _ I've adopted this house as my own personal refuge, and having you to share it with makes it official." To prove it, she took hold of his face and brought it to her lips, immediately allowing him entrance as his dominant side pushed to the surface, eager to take his woman…his…

"Wife," he thought out loud, eyes widening as we realized the insinuation. Her brow raised but she held a grin, amused by his reddening face.

"Careful Klaus," she teased, pulling aware, well aware of his possessive nature. She herself had a tendency to get controlling of things, or people. It was a constant battle between them. "Until you put a ring on it," she waved her finger in front of him, "I'm your _girlfriend," _she pecked him again before climbing off his lap and back into the living room. "Now as my boyfriend, you have an obligation to say yes to me every," she abruptly placed a hand on her hip, "_single_," she emphasized, leaning forward as she shook off her hoodie, "_time_."

It took only a matter of second for him to get the gesture as she tossed it across the room. Her grin took on a seductive turn as she displayed her bare shoulders and low cut tank, delivering a mouth-watering view of her breasts but not enough to quench his desire. She could be just as manipulative as he, using her womanly charms to her advantage. He blurred in front of her, grabbing hold of her waist and pulling her closer, dragging his nose down the crook of her neck, eager to play the same game, the grin on his face hinting at his confidence he would win. She clawed at his shoulders, excited by the feel of his stubble scratching against her throat, but she had control and she would definitely win this.

"So, about the couch," she started but gasped abruptly as he pressed her over it, running his hands down the demin of her jeans before fumbling with the hems. She stopped his hands and held them behind him, staring into his eyes, matching the same lustful glint as he but she had another agenda on hand. "You don't mind if we get rid of it, do you?" She pressed. He broke her grip and had her caged in with his arms. He grinned victoriously.

"I don't know, love," he started, leaning her back. "I think we should try it out," he kissed her passionately, distracting her as they toppled onto the cushions. By then, the expensive pair of jeans she adorned was already on the floor. "Let's be sure this still isn't of use before we go off to replace it." Caroline was too distracted by the fact he had ripped her shirt from the middle.

"Klaus," she scolded, "that was my favorite," she pointed out before being cut off by his lips.

"Love, we can replace _that," _he reasoned, while running his hand down her stomach. She shivered under his touch and instinctually her toes curled, as did her legs, straddling him as her hands fumbled with his shirt, pulling it over his head and disheveling his own dark blond curls. He pushed her down with his own body weight, grabbing the back of her neck as well as her inner thigh, assuring her gleaming eyes would always stay on his as he filled her. No matter how many times they've made love in the years they reconnected (10 to be exact) he still knew how to make it seem like it was their first with how he could make her tremble. His hands knew her exact spots and how to work her, enough to extract a scream loud enough to alert Stefan (in that one occurrence that would scar him mentally for the rest of his life.)

He was still amazed by her beauty, unable to believe something as lovely and pure as Caroline could be capable of such raw passion. That was one of the reasons he loved her. Her back arched as she released again, clinging to him, strong enough to extract blood from her scratch marks but he reveled in it.

After hours' worth of love making they had finally collapsed onto each other, reveling in the other's presence while they mentally recapped the past ecstasy they indulged in. Caroline remembered finally reclaiming her dominance as she had mounted him for the last round, running her hands all over his lean but masculine chest. He endeavored in her display of Alpha-ship, proud he claimed her as equal –she presented it graciously, something most women couldn't.

He could deny it all he wanted to but Caroline _knew _she won this battle. She had Klaus groaning for more before they finally ran out of energy. He covered them with the throw-on covering the couch and spooned her from behind for a while, soaking in her scent –which had been accustomed to his for a while, since they shared almost everything now.

Caroline looked at the time on the TV, noticing her show was still on. As usual, _Say Yes to The Dress _ran for its fourth course, like a marathon all over again. The show caught Klaus's attention to as a robust bride twirled around in a sweetheart ball gown on the platform in the awe of her audience of family and friends.

"I hate that dress," he heard her mutter. His ears perked.

"How come?" he inquired in her ear, knowing the sensation of his stubble excited her. Her hand reached for his face and her gentle, slender fingers caressed his face tenderly. He wrapped his arms around her and settled his face in the crook of her neck, enjoying the silk texture of her hair. She had managed to reach down towards the floor and grab her hoodie and tried to reach further for her jeans but he stopped her, pulling her hand back. She was forced to look him in the eye. "Caroline," he repeated softly, enticing a small smile from her angelic face. "Why?"

"Because, it doesn't fit her," Caroline replied, "and it's way too low for her. _I _could pull that off if I wanted to but personally, I'd go for the mermaid train than a ball grown, heck, even an A-line, to accentuate my waist, and then I'd have a halter top with sequence. I saw it once in _Belle Lucci's_ a few months ago and I fell in love with it."

He could already see it now, his sweet, angelic Caroline walking down the aisle, radiant as the sun, shining down on her like grace. Her hair would fall over her shoulders like gold, wispy and smooth, flawless just like her bright, blissful smile. Her eyes would sparkle and gleam under her veil. He would lift it and she would take his breath away. Her make-up would be subtle and natural and rosy, pink and blushing like a bride of her decadence should be. Her hand would be occupied by a lovely bouquet of deep, red roses. She would put ivory to shame in her satin white gown, gliding over the aisle carpet with the grace of a goddess while the flesh of her porcelain skin would gleam a healthy sun-kissed glow.

"You'd make the most beautiful bride in the world," he honestly admitted, smiling down at her. She blushed under his admiring gaze.

"You are just saying that because you have an obligation," she teased and lowered her eye lids to avoid his stare.

He forced her to stare back at him. "No, I'm not. I'm saying this because I mean it. Caroline, you are beautiful, absolutely stunning, do you not realize _any _man would kill to be in my shoes right now, to be with you. You would give Helen of Troy a run for her money," he pressed into her passionately, hoping she'd realize the truth, "you are the brightness most of us left behind. How you kept it, I don't know, but I beg you to keep shining so long you live."

Caroline blinked back the tears in her eyes and kissed Klaus with all the strength she could muster and the ended up rolling onto the floor, tearing the blanket off and leaving them bare.

"Perhaps, somewhere more…" Klaus began.

"Designated," she finished before zooming upstairs. He faithfully followed at the speed of light, slamming the bedroom door behind him.

The next morning (which happened to be only three hours later) Caroline enjoyed her fresh morning shower –without Klaus –and situated into her usual house attire, throwing on the jeans from yesterday and a different tee and cardigan, slipping out of the room quietly while Klaus rested.

She had only begun mixing the pancake batter in the dim lit kitchen when a fully dressed Klaus entered the room, smiling down at the love of his life.

"Soul mate," he announced, confusing her as she mixed the batter. He pushed himself off the pillar upholding the structure and towards the small blond, wrapping his arms around her waist and planting kisses down her neck. "If you aren't my wife, you are my soul mate. The term _girlfriend _does not do you justice. Have I mentioned how much I love you?"

"Like," she knitted her eyebrows as she recounted the times, "at lot," she chuckled before turning around and bringing his lips to her. "Good morning, love," she mimicked his accent, almost on key.

"_Good morning, love_," he said perfectly, enticing her with his exotic accent.


	2. Home Life of A Married Old Couple

It wasn't all passionate, hot hybrid vampire sex. Decades of domestication plotted Klaus and Caroline in a respectable relationship where sex didn't dominate their thoughts and desires, well, not most of the time. Their relationship was more than that. It wasn't as if their passion had dimmed down. Oh no, anything but, keep in mind Klaus still possessed his erratic, psychopathic tendencies and Caroline was as impulsive and neurotic as she was as a human –vampirism amplifies those qualities, not diminish them. Combined created an intense fire of arguing, insults, door slamming, make up sex, and domination to prove the other was sticking to their vows. But, some nights, such as this, Caroline mused, was a special aspect of their union.

She was exhausted and cold, so she had ventured to their bed, covered up, and rested her back against the headboard, computer in lap as she typed down her latest plans for the holidays. It'd been a slow process but surely the Mikaelson clan has calmed a bit and the past few years have made an effort to attend the family holiday gathering. Caroline made sure it went without a hitch every year for Klaus's sake (and, for a small part, her own, as she adopted his siblings as her own when time and distance sabotaged her own familial ties in Mystic Falls.)

She glance over her shoulder to see Klaus's silent figure beside her, comfortable under the black cotton comforter. His body rose and fell evenly, and his breath shallow and silent. She extended a hand from her keyboard to his shoulder, rubbing it soothingly, while smiling at the thought of Klaus in content and peace. Who knew? She felt accomplished and gratified that only she could subject the Big Bag Hybrid into such a vulnerable state. Not that she'd ever abuse that power. She relished in it actually.

Moments like these were small but significant, reserved for just each other. That's why she favored every chance she could get to preserve their quiet night. The rain pattering at their window helped a bit, too, humming a natural lullaby.

"Go to sleep, Caroline," Klaus murmured. She glanced away from her laptop towards him, surprised but unmoved. "Whatever that is, can wait," he insisted. She shook her head softly but her soft smile held its place on her face.

Klaus hadn't achieved sleep quite yet, not with Caroline typing away furiously. The pattering of the rain and the pattering of her fingers hitting the keys did not match strokes, and the incessant noise competed against each other, with him in the middle. He shuffled a bit, turning to face her with a sloppy grin.

Caroline giggled and was tempted to close the lid of her computer by his adorable eyes alone but after a moment of contemplating, including her awful habit of chewing her bottom lip, she resisted and kept it open, letting the gleaming light of the screen shine upon her torso.

Klaus's eyes diverted from her angelic face to her attire, composed of silk and lace, nothing but the finest quality, he thought. He brought the nightgown just for her during their trip to Paris 2 years ago when the pointed out the bright, blue colors. It was one of the best investments he ever made, he relished, smirking at the glimmering material and its ability to mold perfectly around her body. She just rolled her eyes. It wasn't hard to figure out what was bouncing around in his head, and his wandering hand on her thigh under the covers was another hint to just that. She made no attempt to throw off his calloused hand, enjoying the rough flesh to run circles in her muscle.

He, in return, was astounded still at how soft and delicate her flesh seemed to be, pale like porcelain and smooth like velvet. She was truly a genuine beauty and she was _his. _

When she didn't relent, he pushed himself up against the headboard and leaned closer to her, enough that his chin rested upon her bare shoulder, taking in her fresh lavender scent. Her hair was still damp from her late night shower, and began to naturally curl over her shoulders as the warm air died it. He grinned when he saw her document posted on her screen.

"Love," he murmured into her creamy flesh, pressing a chaste kiss on her shoulder. "That can certainly wait. That isn't for a while," he persisted, pressing another kiss closer to her neck. She shivered and ran a hand through his curly locks while leaning her head over his, enjoying the serenity of the moment.

"Fine," she surrendered, rather loudly with an exasperated sigh. After shuttling her computer into her side table drawer, she returned to her lover and pressed a long, tender kiss upon his lips, smiling against them as his hand fell from her cheeks to the curve of her hip, grabbing the thin silk as if it were an obstruction. She grabbed his wandering hand and clasped it in her own while deepening their kiss.

"That's my girl," he whispered while they descended back into horizontal positions. His hand escaped her hold and was tossed over her hip, gathering her closer to his body. She shuffled closer, relishing in his warmth as her head rested close to his, almost sharing the same pillow. Her lids weighed down heavily until darkness consumed her vision. Klaus made the effort to stretch over to her side and extinguish the dim light of the hand lamp she had on to illuminate her writing.

"Goodnight, Nik," she murmured.

"Pleasant dreams, Caroline," he replied softly, tugging her even closer. His hand grasped her hip from underneath the covers, while her grip encased him around the torso.

"I love you," she quietly finished before her voice fell, drifting off into sleep. Despite this, Klaus eagerly repeated the notion with softer words, and finished with a delicate kiss to her forehead.

If it had been the Wednesday before, the night would have ended different, very differently. Gone would be the calm mood hanging over their heads, instead, an arousing passion would have descended upon them as they tangled in sheets. Wednesday was their movie night, Caroline had decided years ago, and they stuck true to that tradition. They would rent a movie and play it in the theater room. Caroline would have brought blankets from the bedroom and cape the large sheets over their shoulders while she molded to his body, savoring his strong, masculine, protective presence. Almost always the popcorn would be spilled, whether by clumsy feet (Caroline liked to stretch) or rough play (sometimes it wasn't always confined to the couch.)

Third party guests were _prohibited_. Was that rule respected? No, sadly. On many occasions, Rebekah would feel inclined to term Wednesday as another day to connect closer to the only close female companion brave enough to stay in Mikaelson Company. Klaus was silently seething each time his younger sister would intrude on their private moment. Klaus would have to resign his appreciating hands for the meantime while Rebekah and Caroline cuddle under the same comforter. Although, sometimes he'd admit, he felt proud and appreciative Caroline was so forgiving and accepting to his baby sister. He was fortunate enough they got along, past the superficial disagreements they shared back in the small Virginian town.

And Rebekah's company was so much more valued than Kol's. Kol's presence infuriated him. Not because of his annoying commentary to the "pathetically plotted movie" (it was supposed to be that way, as movie night wasn't so much about the movie than the _moves) _but also because Kol had a habit of, as Caroline's generation would say, "hitting on" her. Kol was banned from being within feet of the couple's blanket, as Kol's hand had a habit of drifting under and feeling Caroline's legs even when he was banned to the floor. Klaus almost daggered him right then and there.

Rebekah acted almost as a neutralizer when both of them crashed a movie night, but even without Kol's womanizing ways, their constant bickering infuriated both Caroline and Klaus, but surprisingly it was Caroline who all but kicked them out of her house. He remembered the night vividly, and he smirked every time when the clip of Caroline sending Kol out the door with a swift kick in the ass. Rebekah got the hint not a second later and blurred out after her brother. The couple was left in peace afterwards for the remainder of the night, indulging each other.

Sometimes the movie wouldn't even finish by the time Klaus hoisted her to their bed, eager to ravish her right then and there. Amazing how such an angelic little thing could be capable of such sinful acts. He's learned romantic comedies dull the mood, while action movies tend to entice her wild side. Mystery and suspense fed into foreplay, a secret they contained behind bedroom doors –most of the time. Klaus especially favored her "unsuspecting [unnamed woman] victim," (especially after a corny vampire flick. She would be a tempting young woman, looming over the railing, "Hello? Hello?" feigning fright and terror, or something, putting up bravado of courage and demanding the 'unknown presence' "to show yourself, coward."

He'd take her right then and there, grabbing her from behind and letting her escape for a moment or two before dragging her back, something pushing her up against the wall or not even bothering and doing to deed on the oak floor itself.

At one point, Rebekah had accidently intruded on their foreplay, rushing into their home ranting about an argument she had with her boyfriend, before silence by an unspoken sight that none of them will speak of again. To say Rebekah was scarred would be an understatement, assuming by the way she was mumbling about her preference to be "daggered again" than see what she had.

Klaus didn't mind any alternative to how their nights ended, so long she was in his arms and safe.


	3. Alpha Males

**Fanfiction 4**

**Inspired by/dedicated to: **

Caroline glanced around the authentic bar, taking in the exotic reds and blacks looming from the ceiling, as the small, historic speakeasy-turned-night bar descended into the later hours. Her hand dangled over the railing, preferring the second story patio overlooking the bustling streets of the French quarter rather than the crowded space inside the French double doors. She needed the fresh air, the cool breeze brushing up against her face and pushing her locks aside, and the hum of strangers passing by, unaware of the danger lurking in every corner and among them.

A waiter was tempted to attend to her, noticing her half-empty margarita but her companion's shadowy glare persuaded him otherwise. Under her intense eye shadow, her bright eyed companion leaned forward, setting aside her empty glass.

"I suppose it's hereditary," the Auburn mused. Earlier, under the dimmed light of the interior, Caroline has mistaken her hair to be a rather darker brown, but now, under the brighter glow of the string lights, she could see now the different blend of strands within the stranger's thick, wavy locks. "My mother was an avid drinker," she joked, grinning strictly. "She was one of those party girls in the 1920's. At least she could handle her liquor. Thank goodness I got that, too, or else I'd be completely incoherent," she continued loudly though her voice didn't carry, cut off by the equally loud conversations around them. "I can't say much about my father. I didn't know him, but I can bet from the stories she told me, he was one of Capone's gangsters," she grinned, "then again, she had a habit of glamorizing everything. I suppose that happens when you're degraded to a 40's housewife taking care of 6 kids for an absent father, trying to relive the good life. Not that he wanted to be, the damn draft carried him off to the front lines. I had respect for the guy, taking on a responsibility despite the strange occurrence of adopting a bastard child. He sure loved my mom though. Who wouldn't? She was a lot like you, beautiful, blond, bubbly, and enjoyed a good time. The Depression didn't drag down her happiness, nothing could. Sorry if I ramble. That's a sure sign I had a bit too much to sip," she ended with a burst of giggles. Caroline couldn't help but laugh along, enjoying the stranger's company.

"You're a lot better of a drunk than I am," Caroline admitted. Caroline leaned back and watched the people pass by, envying their blissful ignorance. "Do you ever feel sorry for them? I look at them sometimes and wonder if they even have a clue what is behind them until it's too late and I feel like I should help them but at the same time though, would it make a difference?" Caroline shrugged.

"You're too empathic," the stranger replied, slipping in the ghost of an Irish accent in her strong voice. "I learned to not care _a long _time ago. If someone can snatch me off the street and do as he bids, and leave me with the "gift" as a returned 'favor,' if that's even…" her words faded and Caroline could detect a bitter film glaze over the girl's icy green eyes before it evaporated. "And if people don't even give me a second thought, then so be it. I won't indulge them even a second of my pity when obviously they could care less about others."

"That's how you were changed?" Caroline inquired. The stranger nodded.

"Plucked off the street like a hen to the block," she coldly referred to. "New topic," she ordered, raising a glass. "Why are you here when you could be off experiencing the best of New Orleans? Find a guy, kiss him, kill him, move on to the next one," she had the audacity to grin. Her hair bounced from her shoulders and onto her breasts, which where conservatively hidden under a high neck, ruffled blouse. Caroline hated ruffles but the stranger pulled off the light purple shade nicely. The tan leather clad jacket hanging on her chair gave it an edge.

Caroline stirred her drink nervously. "I'm not sure whether I'm committed or not. I've been with this guy –this amazing, protective, nurturing guy who gave me so much more than what a small town had to offer but as of late, I… I don't want to sound selfish but I want more. I want more than just tidying up the house when he's gone rallying up his posse and such. It's not _us _anymore. It's Elijah –his brother, and his sister and all these other people that need his attention and I'm stuck at home reminiscing on our trips to Paris and Berlin and all these great, magical places."

"Ah," the stranger interrupted with a knowing grin on her pale, flawless face. "I see. The honeymoon is over."

"I guess so," Caroline admitted with a defeated sigh. "I know what he does is important but sometimes I feel like I'm just a toy in the background."

"It's boring," the stranger assumed. Caroline nodded in agreement.

"So, when Tyler –an ex-boyfriend of mine, which we're solely on a friends' basis now, since he found his wife," Caroline remained neutral, "Klaus –my…" she tried to think of a word. "He's not my husband because he doesn't believe in marriage. It's a foolish human tradition he always says whenever I bring it up. 'Isn't what we have enough?' he demands at me." Caroline shrugged in defeat. "Tyler came by to talk and Klaus was not having it. I managed to give Tyler enough time by holding Klaus back while he ran, and then all of his anger was poured onto me, calling me a tramp for not sticking to a guy and eager for affection and how I'm no better than Rebekah. I don't know what I yelled back but it was enough to make him pause and give me time to haul ass and escape to this little place. What's your story?" Caroline inquired, realizing the stranger was texting someone. The stranger place her phone back into her boot –a strange place but it did hide the phone well –before opening her mouth.

"I guess I gotta say my name first," she laughed. "I'm Marjory but you can call me Mary or Marty. Don't ask. My brothers gave it to me when I was little and it stuck." Caroline nodded and shook her hands.

"Caroline," Caroline replied briefly.

"I don't know what brought me other than the thirst for a good drink," she teased, plucking an ice cube from her glass and chewing down on it. "Bad habit, I know," she apologized. "No boyfriend, husband, or partner for me. I'm a single girl," she boasted happily. "I'm sick of men and their Alpha male complex. I can do my own shit, as I please," she announced, earning a clap from a table behind them of drunken college girls. Caroline and Mary laughed awkwardly.

"Amen to that," Caroline cheered, clanking glasses.

"I like doing what I want on my own terms. No obligations, no arguments. When I get sick, I can just say screw this and walk out," she motioned with a long, exaggerated whip of a hand. "I had too many guys come over and try to control me just because I look like a challenge to tame. I am not a domesticated woman," she boasted cheerfully. Caroline chuckled at her enthusiasm. "As the only girl of 6 siblings, I can proudly say I can stick up for myself without any trouble or aid from a man. I have quite a nasty left hook, to be honest," she teased.

"So you're a lefty?" Caroline asked just for the sake of conversation.

Mary nodded. "I know, unusual. So about this Tyler guy, is he really just an ex-boyfriend? Why would a guy who has found his 'life-partner' seek you out?"

Caroline exasperated, rolling her eyes back as he mind drifted back to flashbacks of her argument with Niklaus. "He's _just a friend," _she assured adamantly. "It's been a while and he wanted to make sure I was okay."

"Why wouldn't you be?" Mary challenged.

Caroline shrugged. "We're close friends. I helped him when we were teens and although we had a short romance, that's all it was, a short romance."

Mary shook her head. "No, something isn't right and a smart girl like you should sense it, too. No guy goes to his ex-girlfriend for the sake of it, no out of the blue. Something is either happening at home or already happened and he's looking for a safety net or distraction. I know what I'm talking about. Klaus had every right to be concerned. Tyler was entreating on his territory –yes Caroline, don't roll your eyes, as much as we hate to admit, but we are the prized objects of men, and thus, when another man threatens to steal us, they in return have to be defensive. Tyler and Klaus knew what they were doing. Be proud you have a man who's willing to keep what he wants. Most men don't bother most of the time."

Caroline was about to retort but her mind drifted to her father and his sudden abandonment, realizing the value in Mary's words but still argued for the sake of Mary's sudden 180.

Mary just shrugged in response. "Again, you're too empathetic," Mary chastised. "Try to see Tyler other than friend. There is no friend zone for men, _especially when they're with someone else. _Like Men, we women get defensive, too. How'd you feel is some tramp tries to make a move on Klaus and he's sitting along with it, with no consideration for you? How'd that feel? Believe it or not, men feel too and I bet Klaus is feeling a variety of emotions, confusion, hurt, betrayed, misunderstood..."

Take into account his naturally amplified psychotic tendencies, Caroline weighed, as well as his background…she sighed in defeat.

"I guess so," Caroline admitted. She rose from her seat while tossing a bill on the table. "Enjoy the alcohol, Mary. Don't get too wasted. I have someone I need to go home to, that is, if I'm still welcomed..."

"Of course you are," A male voice spoke from behind, startling her. Caroline leapt back but Mary had come up behind her and kept her balance, saving Caroline from an embarrassing fall. Caroline only had a glimpse to see the smirk witch itself onto Mary's round cheeked face.

"Nik," she shakily voiced. She couldn't find words, stuttering for a moment before falling into silence. He took the cue and extended his hand out, letting Caroline take it as he pulled her closer to him, encasing her into a protective grip, hands firmly around her torso while he pressed his lips to the crown of her head. She expected him to be livid, furious, even with an audience –Klaus never seemed to care, but oddly enough, he was gentle, tender, and delicate with his hold and voice, as if scared any tremor or rise of volume would spook her again. "Thank you _Mary_ for taking care of her."

"It was no problem, Klaus," she assured nonchalantly. "Go on, love birds. Go have some make-up sex and sleep it off." Caroline blushed into Klaus's gray faded shirt and refused to look up to see what expression he may have contracted from Mary's order.

Klaus and Caroline ventured off into the populated streets, slipping passed easily by mindless tourists as they hurried their pace. Shortly thereafter, she caught sight of their street, recognizing the red flowers tangled on the second story terrace. She realized then she didn't venture that far into the city as she originally thought. The fact it was only a 10 minute walk –a dead silent one, mind you, -she wondered if she could really escape it all if she truly ever wanted to without Klaus. Answer? No. She sighed in defeat and let her head rest over his shoulder, not sure what words to utter to clear the tension.

Klaus bravely spoke first. "I'm sorry," he croaked out. "I'm sorry for…everything."

"Me, too," Caroline replied back, smiling a little at his swallowed pride.

"If you were getting bored with staying home, you should've told me. Here this whole time I thought you were getting bored of _me_," he confided. "I thought you'd revert back to that imbecile." The fighting must have worn out the energy in his voice, as he barely rose above a whisper.

"NO," Caroline objected loudly, startling him as they approached the door. "I don't want him, I want _you, _more of you, _all of you,_" she pressed, keeping his hand tightly locked in hers while she forced him into a deep, unbreakable stare. "I want you home more often. I want to revisit Russia, France, and Germany with you, to experience the magic all over again… I want for us to have just _us _time again, even if it's not all the time, I want to make sure we're still the same adventurous people we used to be, that we haven't changed that much. I don't want your siblings barging in _every night_ –including Elijah," she pleaded. "I don't want you to be pulled away all the time, and if you are, I want to go with you. Sometimes I'm worried sick if you don't come back. I don't want to be the clingy girlfriend but I don't want to be the stay-at-home useless housewife either. You and I," she pressed, placing a palm on the side of his face, "we're equal and I want that to show, instead of you thinking you have to protect me from every little threat. I can handle myself just fine Klaus, and I proved that plenty of times to you!"

She took in a deep breath and exhaled, awaiting his response with tense suspense.

"We've been through this, Caroline," Klaus protested. "You are vulnerable and targeted because of who I am. I can't expose you to that kind of danger. That fact you ran into Isobel of all people tonight…you were totally unaware of the danger you put yourself at."

"_Isobel,"_ Caroline repeated, unsure.

"She lied to you when she said her name was Mary. She probably fed you some rubbish about her life in the 50's or 30's."

"And how would you know?" She rejected, glaring up at him.

"That's a story for another time," he diverted. "Let's get you inside and warm. It's dropping in temperature out here." He pushed her inside. Before he could close the door, she had escaped his sight of vision. "Not again," he growled before she was pushed him up against the door frame.

"For someone who's vulnerable," Caroline taunted as she let him go, "I can still pack a punch. Perhaps _Isobel _can give me a lesson or two." She ascended up the stairs, sashaying much more than typical as her bare feet –free of constricting heels –pounded against the steps. Klaus eagerly followed her to their bedroom, watching with anticipatory eyes as she shook off her black jacket to reveal porcelain shoulders. She moved her hair back to the front as she leaned down to removed her jeans. His eyes descended to her now bare legs, aroused by her casual stripping. Caroline had that effect on him.

"If you think you're getting anything tonight, you're not. You're still in the _doghouse_ for making that whore comment. I'm not anybody's whore," she angrily seethed while tossing her jeans into a drawer. He raised his hands in surrender.

"I said I was sorry," he grumbled as he undressed, too. "That doesn't mean you can kick me out of my own bed," he persisted, slipping into his own side. She shuffled further from him. He was a little hurt from her rejection but understood the significance of his angry, mindless words. "You drive me mad though," he accused. "You have no idea how easily I worry about you slipping away and finding someone else."

"You'd kill them in a heartbeat," Caroline assumed. "So I wouldn't bother."

"Looks like you're stuck with me," he teased with a grin, not denying her accusation.

"Ugh," she groaned.

"Now, now," Klaus retorted, "I'm not all that bad."

"You give really good sex, I'll give you that much," she teased.

He rolled over to her and grasped the side of her stomach, while rolling his stubble over her throat, knowing it'd entice her. "I won't fall for it," she tried to decline, weakening her voice as a giggle ruined her strong tone. "Nik, no, Nik…" she feel into a heap of laughter as her pulled her towards the middle and began to plant ticklish kisses down her throat to her chest and began to tickle her weak spots. He nipped at her shoulder before pulling down the straps of her camisole.

She in return flipped over and loomed over him in a straddling position, smirking down at him. "You're a hypocrite, you know. You say I'm vulnerable but when it comes to sex, you aren't gentle _at all," _she explained, tapping at his steel like fingers attached to his hips, strong enough that if she were human they'd leave bruise marks. "Not that I don't mind. I'm just saying."

"I'll show you rough," he gruffly played before pushing her back to her side of the bed, eager to compress her under his body weight. She easily threw off his top and ran her fingers down his torso but kept her eyes on his.

Elijah sighed downstairs, unnerved by the loud commotion upstairs. Rebekah joined him at the table.

"Do they ever take a break?" She groaned.

Elijah shook his head. Rebekah almost vomited in her mouth. Stefan cringed awkwardly beside her.

"If I knew my best friend would turn into a nymphomaniac, I would have never agreed to this."

"I don't think it's so much her rather than my dog of a brother." Rebekah imputed.

A loud, female scream upstairs disturbed them.

"Is she done yet?" Rebekah exclaimed.

"I am not qualified to answer." Elijah retorted.

"How about food," Stefan suggested as a loud bang vibrated throughout the historic house.

"Anywhere but here," Rebekah rushed, her brother and boyfriend eager to follow her outside of their antebellum mansion.


End file.
